Everything's Changed
by ladytilney
Summary: Draco and Hermione are sent on a mission to recapture a criminal in France. What they think is a simple mission backfires on them.


It was supposed to a simple mission. Another simple mission that would take no less than two days.

They had done this kind of mission a dozen times before, but they had been caught, barely making it to safety. They had landed in a forest, right by river that was frozen solid. It reminded her of when she, Harry, and Ron had been on the run, but there was no way Draco knew that forest.

"Brilliant, just bloody brilliant," Draco hissed, stepping away from Hermione, visibly seething.

"Did you see anything? Did you see any of their faces?" she asked, trying to reign in her panic as best as possible.

"If I had seen their faces, I wouldn't have apparated us both out of there. I would've stunned them," he said. "Fuck fuck fuck."

Hermione watched as he began to pace, but she wasn't paying a bit attention to his words as she tried to think of a way to finish their mission. They had been sent to capture an escapee, Evan Nortford, that had been under the custody of the French. They had been picked because Nortford was not a stable criminal, prone to using the Cruciatus Curse and Imperious Curse on a whim, in both the muggle world and wizarding world. They had made it to a small village, near the north coast of France, resembling that of Hogsmeade, where everyone knew the other, making things especially hard.

They had taken to getting a room just for one night in the local inn, acting as tourists who had come for a stop after a day at the nearby coast line. They had played their card of asking the inn keeper if there were any other residents in the inn, or if this was a frequented stop for non-locals. The inn keeper had laughed, saying that any business that he did get was a miracle, as their village was a wizarding village, making muggles a less likely customer.

They had come up to scratch, as the trail Nortford left had lead them to the village, but there wasn't a single person who had seen any newcomers other than themselves. This alone made both Draco and Hermione feel uneasy, as if they were being watched. It also meant Nortford might've left again, but the implications were that he was still there, in the village. Hermione had suggested that they stay the night and that the next day they would leave to look around, trying for abandoned houses or in the near by forest areas for Nortford.

And that was it, their mistake. They hadn't been paying attention while talking to people, the couple aspect calling for both their attentions being diverted, and instead of them watching, they were the ones being watched. Whether it was that they both were famous from the war, or because they hadn't put on too great of disguises, Nortford knew they were the ones sent to recapture them. He knew he was being tailed, and he had set them up.

They had gone to an abandoned house, which looked as though it had just recently been abandoned, hoping to have an easy capture, maybe even catching him by surprise. It had seemed so easy, that neither had expected to be over run by more than one wizard. They entered the house, silently glad that they hadn't set off any fortifications, and entered the house fully. One moment, it had been silent and pitch dark, and the next, the room was blindingly bright. There had been three, along with Nortford, and everything had happened so suddenly that it was a miracle they had gotten out together. The only reason she knew that there had been three was because she had only heard three voices, but for all she knew there could have been more, she hadn't been abled to see a damn thing. There had been hexes thrown their way, but somehow, they had both made it out unscathed.

Hermione had Draco's quick reflexes and thinking to thank for that. She was angry with herself, for not reacting quickly other than deflecting the hexes. She had put them both in danger, but she was more upset that they hadn't really counted on the possibility of accomplices. The danger, that she could deal with, it was part of the job description, but not having a plan B or being fully prepared? That was something else entirely. Stupid and reckless.

"We can't go back," Hermione stated, not being able to come up with any solutions to their compromised mission other than to have another larger auror team go after Nortford's group. And he wouldn't go without a fight, he had the advantage of picking his own location with his own fortifications. "We can't leave either, our port key doesn't activate until tomorrow morning."

"This is bloody brilliant," Draco said again, still pacing.

It took her a few moments to console herself before she got up and began to secure their surroundings. It took only a minute for Draco to join her, adding his own security as they normally did when put into these sort of situations, each falling into routine. Once Hermione had finished, she grabbed her bag and accioed the tent out, getting to work on trying to fix their temporary home.

This all passed in silence, with Draco helping, albeit begrudgingly, and they had the place ready in under ten minutes. Hermione already had everything perfectly packed, of course, and Draco had a fire going relatively quickly, her muggle fire pit coming into use once again.

He stepped out of the tent, meaning to send a patronus to headquarters to tell them what had happened. Hermione always hated to give those sort of reports, hated not being to finish the mission, but she reasoned that it was now beyond her expertise. For all they knew, Nortford had a disposal of many witches and wizards by now, possibly using the Imperius curse or he had an easily corrupted group of followers. The thought didn't bode well with her at all, and she took to cooking dinner, the sun now set completely and the only light were the two lanterns she had hung up carefully in the middle of the tent.

"It's done," Draco said, stepping back into the tent, a grim look on his face. He hated admitting defeat as well, but she had no doubt that he hated being bested more. They had been surprised, and that very fact made Draco's blood boil.

They ate in silence, neither wanting to discuss what had happened, both berating themselves equally and not wanting to fight over who was at fault. Four years of partnership had taught them both that faulting the other only caused intense problems and it was only better to keep the tempers at bay.

The silence was what was killing Hermione. She didn't like it one bit. At least in the inn, there was the hustle and bustle of the street below them, or the clanking of dishes in the kitchen under their room. But here, it was the eerie silence of their silencing charms and neither dared putting on any music or tried to speak. Finally, she looked up to find Draco staring unseeingly at her, his mouth pursed slightly.

"Where are we," she asked, finally, watching as Draco snapped out of his daze, his brows furrowing as he tried to process her words.

"Pardon?"

"Where are we?"

"The Forest of Argonne," Draco supplied, "It was the first forest I thought of that was in France."

Hermione nodded, looking down at her hands. It had never been this difficult to try and make conversation, at least not with Draco, and certainly not recently. The five years since the war had caused them both to be at ease with each other, but more so as they were partners. Ron and Harry had branched off themselves as partners, leaving Hermione to chance in finding her own partner. And she had been paired with Draco, no doubt trying to cement a bond between them and having two former enemies working side by side was big press for them.

Things turned out well, however. The year following the war was one that Draco took in stride, tackling his prejudices and becoming if not nice, then civil with Hermione. The hate that had shown once so vehemently as children was replaced with neutrality. He was good at not giving his emotions away, an attribute that came in handy as an auror.

"We truly fucked up, didn't we?" She asked, making eye contact carefully.

"Yes, but we had no idea that we would be out numbered. The French had said nothing about followers or comrades."

"Never again," she vowed, dropping her head back against the back of her seat, her jaw set tightly.

"Never again," he echoed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him pick up her bag and point inside with his wand, and a moment later a fresh bottle of firewhisky she had been saving flew out.

He poured them each a good three fingers and they downed it quickly, as was traditional when they felt they had royally fucked up.

They didn't talk, not until half the bottle was gone and by then, Draco had definitely had the most, because his next words were one that were so surprising that she was sure he was well and truly pissed.

"If any harm had come to you today, I could never have forgiven myself."

"Draco- "

"No. Just… no. What if they had actually hit either of us with a hex? Or worse, the cruciatus curse? We would have been more than compromised. We would have been captured," he exclaimed, running his hands over his face. Hermione had never seen him so unhinged.

True, they had always been careful before, they had been in worse situations, but they had vastly underestimated the situation. They weren't usually ones sent to recapture criminals, it was mostly more of stake-out missions, those taking maybe a week or two before allowing for them to take action, plans being drawn up carefully.

But this, Hermione could see, was bothering Draco more. It was shock, no doubt, for she had no other reason for it. And this new sentiment, well, Hermione still didn't know what to make of it.

"Draco, it was a mistake. A royally big mistake. But we are both safe." She replied, trying to act comforting. She got up, moving towards her "room," but she stopped as she saw he had risen as well. The look he gave her, one showing emotions she never thought she'd witness on him, gave her pause.

"Why do you think I wanted you as my partner," Draco asked, his voice raw and unsteady. The question was sudden, the randomness making Hermione's head spin.

"You wanted to be my partner," she asked as she wrung her hands together, not knowing what to do with them. She was surprised, but not shocked, not really.

"Yes, but do you know why?"

"No." She replied, her voice growing small as he grew serious, despite the alcohol.

"Do you think it was because I wanted you because you're the brightest witch of our age? Because I'm a survivalist and you'd never leave me behind? Because together we make a damn good team?" He stepped closer, so that their chests were almost touching, the electricity around them intensifying more then Hermione thought possible. "Or is it because I've been in love with you since seventh year and the need to keep you safe is almost second nature now?"

She could feel the shock resonate through her body, eyes widening, breathe catching, legs weakening, the weight of his words registering slowly. His eyes were warm silver, determined to finally put his heart forward for her to take. Hermione couldn't formulate anything, her mind was repeating his words over and over.

 _I've been in love with you since seventh year. I need to keep you safe._

"Seventh year?"

"Yes, seventh year, you ninny. You were the only one who didn't look at me with complete and utter disdain," he replied, chuckling softly as he moved to grab her hands. "Your utter determination to make a change, to help the broken Malfoy heir see the light."

She remembered that year. Hogwarts, newly rebuilt, welcomed back it's new and repeating students with open arms, but no such open arms were there for Draco. He was now the outcast, the one no one wanted to associate themselves with. It had been like that before, but now, it was for utterly different reasons. The Draco that came back was one changed by the war, no longer the bratty blood elitist, but instead a man riddled with the terrors of the war first hand and the guilt that came with it.

"You didn't deserve the hate. We were all too young, thrust into hatred and war without a second glance."

"Yes, I did. But what I didn't understand was you. The brightest witch of our age, coming to me with the proposition for a truce. I had been so horrid to you in school and had fought against you in the war, you still gave me a second chance. A new beginning."

"You weren't the same boy. You changed," Hermione whispered, squeezing his hands. She hoped that he knew that. He had shown that well enough as he became an Auror and fought side by side with her for the past three years.

"I had. I had spent the time before Dumbledore's death until that first day of seventh year looking over my prejudices, my views. How could a witch who was so brilliant at every subject at Hogwarts be so inferior? How was I any better then she?" He looked down at her, bringing his thumb to trace across her cheek, the warmth in his eyes returning. "The answer was, I wasn't. I wasn't any better in the slightest. I was an elitist bastard, with the guiltiest conscious imaginable. And then there was you. You and your determination to fix all the wrong and start new. You were and still are my saving grace."

She hadn't realized she was crying, not until he brushed away her tears and smiled sadly down at her. The emotion and sincerity behind the confession opened a floodgate of buried feelings, ones she hadn't fully allowed herself to have. She wasn't sure what she was feeling; anger, sadness, hope, happiness? It was all one big cauldron of emotions, and she was feeling it all. She hadn't known, hadn't even tried to imagined this to happen. He had always been good at hiding himself away, but now that she did know, it was as if every last memory since seventh year was coming up with new light, new meanings. The absence of cruelty, the quietness, the solemnness, the acceptance of his wrongs and his path to trying to redeem himself, all something he had done not only for himself but for her.

 _For her._

It had taken him sometime, but he had done a lot to be better, to think without being venomous, to look without seeming disgusted. He was still a rotten bastard when he wanted to be, that part of his personality not completely gone, but he didn't insult others the way he had done before. Instead, it was only when he was especially annoyed, angry, or tired that he showed signs of his previous behaviors. And that, in itself, was something Hermione found to be the best of developments.

He leaned forward, tilting her face up further for better access, and kissed her softly. The jolt of electricity she'd felt just hours before rushed forward, and finally, she acted upon it. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him back, letting her actions show what her words really couldn't.

"Four years," he whispered against her lips, "Four long years I've waited for you."

"No more waiting," she said, gripping the back of his neck tightly, boldly, letting the alcohol say what she was feeling. "I'm certainly not going to."

And after that, Draco lost the bit of control he had been trying to have. He used his passion, his thanks, and his desire as leverage as he kissed her again, this time not holding anything back. He was hard yet careful, and at that moment Hermione didn't care to be careful. She kissed him back, letting the sexual tension and emotions that had built up over the past year let loose, the kisses becoming bruising.

Draco was the first to break away, their breaths mingling harshly as they tried to catch their breath. He laughed, truly laughed, and smiled a hooded smile as he moved his hands from the back of her neck to cradle her face.

"Slower?" He asked, looking quite disheveled from her wandering hands. She nodded, and was surprised as he pulled her with him as he sat on the bed, one he'd transfigured earlier, and let his hands rest on her hips.

He slowly, as if making sure he had her permission, moved his hands under her shirt, rubbing her skin soothingly as he went. She kept her hands firmly on his shoulders as they stared at each other, neither willing to look away, the heat between them coursing through each of them in constant waves.

He had dreamed about this day, the way he'd make sure her needs were completely met before he took her slowly, trying to prolong the experience as much as possible, and he'd be damned if he let his control lapse and was quick about it.

She made no move to stop him, and instead encouraged him with a smile, one that resonated so completely within him that he had no qualms with what he did next. He took her firmly by the waist and moved her onto her back in the middle of the bed. She laughed breathlessly, bringing his head down to kiss him right and good. She would have been lying if she had said she hadn't thought about doing this, kissing him and having him ravage her, as he was her partner and they spent many days together. Her imagination, however, didn't hold a thing to the real thing.

He divested himself and her of their shirts, the contact of skin on skin causing him to groan softly. He kissed down her neck, nipping below her ear and sucking softly on the skin above her right breast. He moved further down, kissing down the valley of her breasts down to her navel, his tongue licking softly. Hermione squirmed under his ministrations, and moved her hands to unclasp her bra to knead them herself.

Draco looked up as he felt her move and growled at the sight, moving his hands to cover her own hands. He moved his head to kiss her left breast, the one she wasn't holding, and carefully bit down on her nipple, causing her to arch up. As he kissed and licked her breasts, Hermione moved to the top his pants, quickly making do of his buckle and had almost had his zipper fully down before he moved to stop her.

"No. Not yet," he whispered, hoarsely. She only nodded, grudgingly understanding his need to go slow, and instead busied herself with feeling his back, kneading his muscles as he kneaded her. It went on like this for another few moments, the mutual stimulation, but Hermione wanted more. She needed more.

Sensing her impatience, he chuckled but conceded as he pulled her trousers and underwear down in one swoop, following close behind by his own trousers and underwear. When he moved above her again, she felt a thrill as he opened her legs, kissing his way up her right inner thigh, finally, _finally_ , parting her to lick her, softly. The moan she let out spirited him to go forward, alternating between licking and sucking, driving her near insane at the sensations. She came quickly, the stimulation he had given her beforehand and just then was too much for her.

"Draco, please," she whispered, moving to sit up as she tried to kiss him. "I need you."

It was all he needed, all he wanted to hear, as he positioned his cock and entered her slowly, moaning into her mouth as she kissed him. After that, it took almost all of his control not to love fast and hard, every one of his instincts calling for it. She met him, thrust for thrust, her hands moving up and down his back, the need to feel him everywhere strong.

"Harder, Draco," Hermione groaned out, the feeling of her next climax coming on once more. With this, he caved and thrust harder, letting his instincts take over. They came right after the other, Hermione's climax and her call of his name, sending him into his own climax.

They breathed heavily, Draco managing to fall beside her instead of on top of her, and brought her body close to his, relishing in the proximity as well as the pleasure they had just had.

"Everything's changed," she whispered against his chest, her hand tracing the outline of his upper chest.

He looked down at her, hoping to god that she wasn't disappointed by that fact. He was relieved to see her smiling softly, and he tightened his grip around her waist.

"Changed for the better, I hope," he replied, kissing her softly.

"Yes," she whispered, snuggling her body closer to his.

I hope you enjoyed that! It's my first Dramione, and I'm slightly proud? Please review, if you can!


End file.
